In Fraser A Gorman’s world, the internet hasn’t arrived yet. Slow reflections on love and everyday mundanity make up the sweetly lilting Americana of his debut, slotting in comfortably next to the work of his Melbourne indie scene contemporary Courtney Barnett. Where she opts for harder-edged guitars, Gorman bathes songs such as Mystic Mile, My Old Man and Broken Hands in the warm glow of organ chords, harmonica and lap steel. Slow Gum sees Gorman tightening up the rougher sound of his eponymous 2013 EP; while still borrowing heavily from the lazy drawl of 70s folk-pop and piano-led singer-songwriter balladry. It all starts to falter a little when the songs start to bleed into each other’s comforting, sunshine-peaking-through-gossamer textures – a change of pace wouldn’t have gone amiss.
